


Me and You and Tiramisu

by LingeringLilies



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 2x13, Episode Fix-it, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LingeringLilies/pseuds/LingeringLilies
Summary: Fix-it patch for 2x13 where Alex actually acknowledges Maggie's feelings.





	

The door slammed behind Maggie, leaving Alex in stunned silence as the candles flickered for a moment and then stilled.

She felt stupid, like she should have known. Maggie didn’t just arbitrarily hate things. At the very least she should have _listened_ to Maggie. Now she’d gone and upset her.

She looked at the counter. The note, the scotch, the tiramisu, the bonsai. It looked ridiculous now. She took a shaky, heavy sigh and pulled her robe tighter around her. She felt cold.

This thing with Maggie had felt so insular, so safe and protected from the world. And Maggie was such a strong, confident person, Alex had felt like she’d fallen from space in her own kind of pod, impervious to intangible weapons like hatred and fear.

But she wasn’t. Maggie was human and had more hurt than Alex had realized.

Alex blew out the candles and shut off the fire, putting the tiramisu in the fridge and the scotch in the cabinet. She took off her silky pajamas and put on her sweats. She sank onto the couch, covering herself with a blanket as a heaviness slithered through her. She turned on the tv and stared, restless and scared and confused.

She'd messed up. She shouldn't have listened to Kara, the most ridiculous romantic in the universe. She should have trusted that Maggie meant what she said.

Except Maggie hadn't always meant what she said. Like when she'd lied about her parents all those months ago. Alex was so confused and conflicted about everything that had just happened.

She took out her phone, hoping Maggie would call or text. Every minute crawled by too slowly and her chest hurt. But she didn’t hear from her.

She wanted to give Maggie her space. But it felt like that space was taking up residence in her body, sucking out the organs and air she needed.

After an hour she couldn’t just sit there anymore. So she got up, gathered a few things, and went to Maggie’s.

* * *

Maggie knew she’d been harsh. Alex had meant well, and a few little gifts and some candles weren’t the end of the world. It wasn’t like she’d filled her apartment with balloons or sent a singing telegram to the precinct. But Maggie had spent the whole day trying to pretend it was just February 14, a day no different than the 13th or 15th.

But it couldn’t be. Because February 14th was the day her childhood had ended, sooner and more abruptly than most people’s. After those first few weeks at her aunt’s, when she’d realized things weren’t ever going back to normal, she’d sometimes thought it would have been easier if her parents had died in a car accident or something. At least that way she wouldn’t have to live knowing they didn’t love her. At least that way she wouldn’t have to endure taunts in the halls at school. At least then she’d have been able to go on living her life a little less hardened and scarred.

But she’d recovered from all that. Mostly. Time heals all wounds or something. She’s made a great life for herself from her rocky beginnings. A great life that now included Alex.

Shit, she shouldn’t have been so mean about it. She shouldn’t have left in the middle of their conversation. But she’d felt herself starting to cry, which had sent panic alarms off all through her body, and she just had to get out and go somewhere she could breathe.

For the last few years, the place she could always breathe was her roof.

It was a sorry excuse for a patio, a few broken chairs and an out-of-place looking trellis with dead vines growing on it. But no one ever came up here, and Maggie could sit still, high above the sirens and movement of the city.

She bundled up in her leather jacket against the chill. Her jacket was her armor, a defense against the world she didn’t want to let in most of the time. But the world still managed to get to her once in awhile, just like February 14 kept happening every year.

She finally let herself cry, slumped against the side of the ventilation system. She wasn’t crying so much for herself now. She was crying for her younger self, for how scared and confused and betrayed she’d felt, how no one had made any space for that.

And maybe a little bit for her adult self, who was still so affected by that girl.

Even alone, she didn’t entertain her feelings for too long. After a few minutes she decided she’d cried long enough and forced herself to stop. Her vision cleared and she relaxed, tipping her head back to look up.

She sat up there for a long time, looking at the clouds, glad she couldn’t see the stars. Sometimes staring up at the vastness of the universe gave her a kind of existential anxiety, a sense that she was insignificant, a mere speck of dust in the galaxy. And even though she was hurting and shut off from people around her, she needed to feel significant, like all the work she’d done to get where she was now mattered. Because she was proud of her life. She’d earned everything she had.

Like she had Alex, who was so adoring and sweet and enthusiastic about every little thing. Going to the grocery store to buy cookie dough they burnt because they got distracted making out on the couch. Walking along the river on a sunny day. Meeting for a lunch on the rare day both their jobs were slow. Alex just loved being around her.

She realized how badly she’d overreacted, how she’d twisted an innocent, playful gesture on Alex’s part and turned it into something it wasn’t. Her parents and Eliza Wilkey were far in her past. Maybe not as far as she wanted them to be. But Alex was her present. And it was a wonderful present.

After what could have been an hour or three, Maggie got cold. She stood up, feeling heavy, exhausted from feeling so much in a short period of time. She slumped down the stairs and through the hall to her apartment.

A few yards away she stopped, seeing something square and red on her doormat. She bristled. Had Alex really not understood?

She bent down, realizing it wasn’t a gift. It was just a Tupperware container with a red lid and a note on top.

_I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. You have every right to be mad. Enjoy this and call me when you feel like talking. XOXO Alex_

Maggie opened the lid and saw Alex had cut a big piece of tiramisu to fit into the container.

Maggie felt herself get heavier, guilty for the way she’d stormed out. None of this was Alex’s fault. It was the fault of people she hadn’t talked to in years. And yet here they were, like clockwork, ruining Valentine’s Day all over again.

She put the tiramisu in the fridge, feeling like she didn’t deserve to eat it until she worked things out with Alex.

* * *

Alex woke from a restless sleep earlier than she meant to. Her stomach felt raw, and not just from hunger. She was so worried about Maggie. Their relationship too, but mostly that Maggie was upset. She couldn’t believe Maggie had lied - such a selfless, loving lie - and wasn’t sure if she wanted to shake her or kiss her for telling it.

But it wasn’t her story, and she didn’t get to tell Maggie how or when to tell it.

She checked her phone, heart flipping when she saw a text from Maggie sent at 2am.

 _Thank you_ was all it said.

Alex felt something settle tentatively in her. Maggie had gotten the tiramisu and wasn’t so mad that she wouldn’t talk to her. She just needed space.

Alex went to work, busying herself with some lab reports and particle analyses. It was a relief to have that to dive into. She kept her head down and her chest clenched, guarded against everyone. Even Winn, who was harmless and seemed to be fidgeting more than usual.

She didn’t hear from Maggie all day. Which was fine. Well, she tried to be fine with it. It was Maggie’s prerogative to take the time she needed. Still, when she left work she felt antsy, like she needed something to calm her down. She poured a glass of wine and drew herself a scalding hot bath, laying in it looking up, feeling the wet ends of her hair tickle her neck like paintbrushes, wondering when Maggie would call.

Something about the warmth of the water opened her chest up. She stopped thinking about her own unsettling, her own discomfort over the night before. She thought about Maggie as a girl, smaller and less sure of herself than she was now. She wondered how anyone on any planet could look at that girl and feel anything but love and protectiveness.

And she thought about how she wanted to show that same love and protectiveness now.

She pulled the plug when she got pruny, feeling her body sink heavily into the porcelain before she hauled herself out, putting on her robe - the terrycloth one, not the silk - and running her fingers through her hair to get it to unstick from her neck. She had just opened the door to the bathroom, letting out a cloud of steam, when she heard a knock at the door.

She knew it was Maggie before she even looked at the peephole.

Sure enough, Maggie was standing in the hall, wearing a plain shirt and jeans, her face fresh and clear but tired-looking. Alex wondered if she’d slept.

She opened the door, feeling her face start to cinch in an expression of concern and guilt.

“Hi,” Maggie said, eyes skirting the floor.

She was holding the container of tiramisu, and for a moment Alex panicked, thinking Maggie was here to return it and break up with her.

But Maggie looked sheepish. She wasn’t here to deliver bad news.

“Come in,” Alex said, her voice soft and concerned.

“I, um… I brought this so we could eat it together,” Maggie said, gesturing with the container. “I'm guessing that was your original plan.”

“No, I- I got it for you. To eat whenever you want. I have plenty left if you want to take it ho-”

Before Alex could finish her sentence, Maggie squeezed her eyes closed like she was being pinched. “Alex, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I freaked out on you, that wasn’t fair, you were being sweet and I overreacted…” She opened her eyes, looking everywhere but at Alex. “I just… I don’t know, I guess I don’t know how to deal with someone actually wanting to do all that stuff…”

Alex stepped forward, hands up because she wanted to touch Maggie to reassure her, but cautious in case it was unwanted.

“No, Maggie, _I’m_ sorry.”

Maggie stilled when Alex took the container from her hands and set it on the counter, then put her hands gently on Maggie's biceps.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. But beyond that… I’m sorry that you had to go through that. You didn't deserve it. And at such a young age…” She drifted off, looking around the room in disbelief that any parent would do that to their child. “I’m sorry that anyone ever made you feel like it wasn’t okay to be who you are, that someone let their own hatred and fear take anything away from you.”

Maggie’s gaze shifted so she was looking down at the cinch of Alex’s robe. She was listening. The little tremble Alex felt confirmed it.

“And I’m sorry if I ever did anything that made you feel like you couldn’t share that with me. I know I’m new to all this, and I get that you wanted to protect me. But I’m also an adult who cares about you. So… _so_ much. And I want you to feel like you can tell me things, even bad things. You’re not gonna scare me off or make me… _like_ you any less by being real.”

Maggie swallowed, and Alex worried she’d unraveled her again. Maggie didn’t like being vulnerable like this. So she tried to help gather her up again.

“If you need to go directly from February thirteenth to fifteenth, that’s _fine_. I’d probably want that too if I were you. We can find other ways and days to show each other we care. There are three hundred and sixty four other options, some of them birthdays and holidays and anni… We’ll figure it out.”

Maggie was still looking down, biting her lip in thought, and Alex was worried she’d dug herself into an even deeper hole. What did she know of Maggie’s hurt? What right did she have to try to address any of it? Maybe she should stop before Maggie stormed out again.

“We could start by sharing this delicious non-vegan dessert and watching _American Ninja Warrior_?” she offered, lifting her hands off Maggie’s arms to reach for the container.

But Maggie’s hands darted out to Alex’s waist, holding her still. Alex was frozen for a second until she felt Maggie melting against her, leaning forward to perch her chin on her shoulder, pressing the bulky tie of her bathrobe into her stomach. Maggie curled forward against her in relief, running her hands up Alex’s damp back as she exhaled.

Alex wrapped her arms around Maggie in response, so protective and relieved. She held her there for a long time, just feeling Maggie breathe against her.

When Maggie spoke it was so quiet Alex barely heard. She wasn’t tearful or shaking. She was just timid.

“Thank you.”

Alex hummed, feeling her body finally come down from its swirl of worry and confusion. Holding Maggie like this was better than any card or gift or box of chocolates.

“Anytime.”


End file.
